The conflict between Palestine and Israel divides us like no other. And for those of us who try to understand and value, decide and ponder, attending to both the text that is written every day with facts and the context in which it is given, the conflict despairs us because we are looking for an impossible truth. It doesn’t exist, it can’t exist because it’s an indecipherable code for our intelligence and with the guts you can talk and hear little.
That mirror in which we seek to find what is reflected in it is murky and changing. We had a lot of fun questioning the undeniable, frowning like a millionaire before the obvious advantages of peace and democracy, denying the plausible and assuming the quantum reality of everything that gave us the right. But now we would like to find something that was true, to clear responsibility, to determine who we listen to and who we turn off the microphone, but it is useless.
We would like to go back, to the moment when everything seemed boring and predictable, stop time to the first atrocity and place the banner of a truth there. And then, continue with the lies if you want, but knowing that, when the time comes, you can remember that flag, that truth and try again.
There is no truth in this conflict because hate does not understand categories or allow them. And, let’s be honest, it divides us all because we also carry with us the perfume of hatred in prejudices, disgusts and sympathies. Perhaps there is nothing to be done in that place in the world because there is no truth to convince the other and only by annihilating the rest will there be a truth, the one that remains. Or maybe the apocalypse and the disaster, exhausted by each other, will make them accept that there is no truth, because the truth they defend, after all, was revealed by a God who also does not exist.
